The Life We Thought We Knew
by ezria.renesmee
Summary: After 13 years, Ezra Fitz receives and unexpected phone call from the most unexpected person. His world is turned upside down. With plot twists and unforgettable characters, I hope you enjoy! This was a collaborated story with florencebisson! :)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Guys! So , first I want to start of by saying that this story is a collaboration! It was written by me and my great friend Florence. The story will be posted to her fanfiction account as well! Her twitter is florenceb26. She's pretty amazing****. So I hope you guys LOVE it! Make sure to review, subscribe and stuff! Thanks! **

Walking into my New York apartment I dropped my jacket on the counter and ran my hands through my hair. I walked to the cabinet beside my desk and got out a bottle of scotch. I reached for a glass sitting atop the cabinet, pouring a reasonable amount of the liquid in it. I sat down on my chair, turning to face the window above my writing space. I rubbed my face with my empty hand, releasing a heavy sigh. Looking out into the view of buildings ahead, I couldn't help but think of Aria. This was supposed to be our life. We were supposed to move into a little place in New York, living the perfect fairy tale we always planned. But she was 16. I was 23. We broke up after about a year and a half together. After our devastating break-up I moved to New York and I tried getting my mind off her by sticking to my original plan of getting a book published, but what do you know. I'm back teaching college now. Thinking of Aria was like a thousand deaths lined up. One death after another. A scream, a thriller, a pain that throws you for a loop. As I continued to stare into the blue sky, sadness washed over me remembering my life. Remembering our hiding. Our sneaking around. The classes, my apartment, the paper bags, Rosewood. I needed to go back and see her. Knock on her door and apologize for just leaving her. I should have fought for her. We broke up because she told me she had to leave me. I still never understood why though. She kissed me and cried in my arms when she said goodbye. Maybe someone else had something to do with our break-up…

But all of that happened thirteen years ago. Her memory haunted me like a ghost, ever so present but always distant. Her angelic features were burned into my brain. Sometimes, when the night got really lonely, I could almost imagine her smell, delicate, yet so empowering. If there was only one thing I could wish for her for the rest of my life is that she'd forget me. That she didn't carry the burden of our long lost love. On the days when the burden became too heavy, I hoped she had moved on. No one deserved to live such a life, but it had been a conscious choice I had made a long time ago. By not letting anyone else in, I blocked everybody out. Many times had my friends introduced me to intelligent, beautiful and kind women, and just as abundant were the reasons I had given them as to why it wouldn't work out. Writing had seemed to be my only escape at the time, and it still was. The dozen of notebooks sitting on my wooden desk only confirmed that process. Hardy often told me that if I had enough willpower, I could publish those stories and they would surely be best-sellers. My editor had pushed me countless times to write another book, but I never gave him another draft. My college teaching life was really occupying me. At least, that's what I told him. Eventually, he backed off, but I could tell he saw right through me and my pour excuses.

I was whisked out of my dark thoughts by a sudden flash of light. I pushed my papers aside and realized it was my phone. One missed call, one voicemail. I slid the arrow across the screen and brought it to my ear.

"Hi, um… I probably shouldn't be calling here since you have no idea who I am… but, um, I just had to do it. My name is Rosalie, Rosalie Louise Montgomery. I assume you're Ezra Fitz? (sigh) It was really stupid calling here, I shouldn't have done that. Um, basically from what I understood you could be my father, but I'm not getting my hopes up. So, yeah. Call me back if you can, if you want… "

The small, fragile voice was cut off by a beep. My hands were covering my face and my thoughts couldn't catch up to the speed my heart was racing. That voice brought back so many feelings I'd rather keep buried. It was so similar to _hers _that I couldn't even doubt it.

"Rosalie" my voice cracked. The heavy meaning of the words she had just spoken trough the receiver washed over me.

It was hard to wrap my head around the idea of not spending every single second with Aria, but even harder to know that we had conceived a child. Why didn't I know this? Why did she never tell me? I screamed and clutched my hands into fists, my arms shaking. Then the question rolled over me. 'Should I call back? Should I find them?' Because I knew, finding Rosalie would be the way back to Aria. How could I honestly pass up the idea of having her arms wrapped around my body, her lips on mine, her voice speaking my name?

My feelings for Aria were still powerful, but the betrayal I felt was a deal breaker. How the most important woman in my life had thought it was useless to tell me I had a daughter was an eternal mystery. It forced me to rebuff my feelings, as much as I would like to run to their doorstep and make everything right. Had Aria put the blame on me when she explained her, _our_, daughter why she didn't have a father? Would Rosalie even trust me? Then again, she had made the first step to speak to me.

I had the phone number, I had a reason. I had a child. That idea would take a long time to sink in. The call was made about 15 minutes ago, and I assumed Rosalie would be waiting for a response. Or maybe not. She probably thought I was an arrogant father who left when she was born. When in reality, it was Aria's fault. I picked up my phone and slide the unlock button. Going into my missed caller numbers, I was hoping it was Rosalie who would pick up. I wouldn't be able to talk to Aria after 13 years over the damn phone. I wasn't quite sure if I was upset at her for breaking up with me without a reason, or upset at myself for not fighting for her. My finger hovered over the number. I clicked it once and immediately ended the call. What was it with me not being able to call a thirteen years old girl back? She couldn't possibly kill me over the phone… As I pressed 'call' for the second time, I closed my eyes and my hands shook lightly from my anxiety. After 2 rings, a voice answered. It sounded like velvet almost, so soft, so tender, as if she was an angel. I could just picture her through the voice. Long wavy hair, dimples, perfect eyes and the most absolute complexion. Just like her mother.

"Hello?" It chimed.

My eyes began to water, and I took a deep breath.

"Is this Rosalie?" my voice broke at the end.

"Yes" she responded "Is this..?" The girls on the other end of the phone gasped and all I could hear silence. As the awkward pause continued, all I could hear was heavy breathing and a girl crying on the other end of the line. Her nervous tone had gradually grown into sobs as I heard a door close after her.

"I really don't know if I should have called back, but I thought you deserved better. I'm your father. My name is Ezra Fitz. I live in New York, but I'm from Rosewood. I assume that's where you live?" I asked, trying not to break down. It was hard, but I knew for her sake I should keep it together.

"You left me" she cried "I- I've never meet you. You're my FATHER."

I didn't know I was really crying until I spoke again.

"This wasn't my fault- Listen – I –Rosalie – I need to see you and your mother."

A hesitant silence came from the receiver.

"This isn't something that I can walk away from. I know that I have a family now, and I want to own up to it. When do you think I could come see the both of you?"

Rosalie suddenly sucked in a quick breath of air.

"You would come for us?" she asked in a hopeful yet incredulous tone.

I quickly responded "I would do anything for you. Can I come Wednesday? That leaves us two days."

"O-of course, I'll be waiting" She said with a burst of excitement ringing throughout her voice.

"Goodbye Rosalie" I said chuckling

"Wait!" she exclaimed, her voice worried.

"What is it Rosalie?"

"You'll come, right? You won't just hang up and not keep your promise? I need to be able to trust you."

"I'm a man of my words, Rose. I won't let you down." I answered my voice confident, with a hint of newfound protectiveness.

"Bye Ezra. Don't disappoint me" and the line fell shut.


	2. Chapter 2

Aria's POV

I walked up the stairs and into my room, fanning myself with the hem of my loose t-shirt. I entered the master bedroom of mine and Rose's small house and looked around. I spotted the closet and walked towards it. I grabbed the chair sitting next to my vanity and brought it to my closet. I stepped on the chair to lift myself from the ground and bring me at desired height. Some people might think that my height was adorable, but it surely never came in handy.

I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, but I let it slide. I had learned to get used to it over the years, and no matter how many times I assured my family and friends that I was perfectly fine, it never went away. I could lie to everyone around me so easily, but I never once fooled myself. I kept on living my life, regretting every day the decision I had made so many years ago and had made my life turn. Pain was a part of it, but I knew I had to endure it for the sake of my family. I had made the right decision, I kept repeating to myself. I had done what was best for Rosalie and for the first time in my life at the time, I had overstepped my own wellbeing for the sake of hers. Since then, my life had been a series of event gravitating around her. (You can elaborate on how she managed school and some work to support her daughter with the help of her parents…)

I felt around the top of my closet, moving boxes around in my quest for the Montgomery family photo albums. I took out a rectangle dark blue box out of the way and felt something restraining it. I tugged harder and a mini avalanche happened before my eyes. I sighed in exasperation and hoped off the chair, bringing the now free blue box with me. I crouched down next to the mess on floor and started tossing things aside. A cleaning session would be in order soon, I thought. I sat on the floor, reaching for a loose stack of papers. I went through a few of them, realizing they were mostly old drawings. As I set the first pile of old meaningless drawing, the sharp reflecting of the sun on a metal object caught my eye. I extracted the said object from the pile of accumulated junk and immediately recognized it. My breath hitched and I recoiled. My instincts pushed me to drop the chest and run as far from it as I could, but some strange feeling kept me straight where I was. Tears sneaked their way in my eyes as I reluctantly unfastened the metallic bolt and lifted the lid carefully, blowing softly on it to brush off the accumulated dust. Inside the old leather-covered chest resided my dearest treasures. A white now cracked plastic spoon. A pair of chopsticks. A few picture frames here and there. A withered corsage. _Basia_ and _The Fray_ tickets. Winesburg, Ohio. An entire chapter of my life rested in a simple antique leather chest that I hadn't opened in 10 years. A pile of letters fastened with a rubber band sat imposingly in the middle of the beloved box. Tears fell freely from my cheeks and let them.

I hadn't thought about that part of my life in so long, but when Rose had come to me about her family tree project and how she needed to trace down both of her origins, including her fathers, it struck a weird mix of emotions in me. I had always told her about her father growing up, how incredible of a man he was, or what he would do in such and such situation. Unless she had a concrete interrogation about him, she never seemed to be bothered by the fact that he wasn't around to support us. She had grown up with her uncle Mike as a male figure and she was proud of that fact. I worried that as she reached her teenage years and started figuring out who she really was, she would want to know more about him, and in the worst case scenario, to meet him. I pushed that possibility to the back of my mind, thinking that I could deal with when the time came. And now, I sat on my bedroom floor crying. That time was about to come, I thought, and there's nothing else I'd be able to do other than to deal with it. That statement scared me to no end, considering the way I'd left things with him.

I looked a t the clock and realised that Rosalie would be home from school at any moment now. I put the various treasures and picture I had pulled out of the chest back in it before I stood back on the chair to hide it securely behind other boxes. I stopped midway through my gesture, an idea springing in my mind. I placed the chest next to me on the chair and felt around the top of my closet until I found the items I was looking for in the first place: photo albums. I took a light pink one in my hands and lowered myself until I was in a sitting position on my chair. I flipped through the multiple pages and stopped at a certain picture. Rosalie was three at the time. Her long unruly curls fell around her head in a water fall and her striking blue eyes contrasted with the red and orange leaves around her. Some leaves were sticking out of her hair. The portrait had been taken right after she emerged from the giant pile of leaves I had just scrapped from our backyard. She was smiling brightly, her eyes filled with excitement. Her cheeks were pink from the slight drop in temperature the autumn day had brought. She looked loved, cherished, happy. She looked alive. I removed the picture from its plastic envelope and slid it in my memory box by a slit between the lid and the rest of the chest. Our story could never feel complete without her in it and if this was the only thing they Rosalie and Ezra were left with, they would know the entire truth.

The door slammed loudly downstairs and startled me. I quickly climbed back up on the chair to hide the leather box properly and took out all the photo albums for Rosalie to use. Just as I was climbing back down one final time, Rose came walking in.

"Hey mom!" she exclaimed, smiling brightly.

"Why, hello to you too. You scared the living crap out of me, young lady." I answered in a slightly reprimanding tone and she laughed.

"Sorry I really didn't mean to I swear. I still need my mom!" She replied apologetically, enveloping in a hug. I hugged her back tightly, kissing the top of her head.

"I'm glad, because I still need me baby girl." I held her for a few additional seconds before I released her. She looked at the floor and gave me an interrogated look.

"What's all this mess mom? Did I just catch you in the middle of your early spring cleaning?" She chuckled, knowing my obsession for a tidy environment.

"No!" I shot back in a mock blessed tone. "I was looking for our family pictures for your homework, sweet pea."

"Oh! Did you find anything good?!" she asked excitedly, sitting down and grabbing a random pile of papers.

"Don't look at these!" I exclaimed, reaching out for the drawings. She took advantage of my small frame and extended her arm farthest away from me so I couldn't reach them. she lightly shoved me away with her free arm and shook her head.

"You never let me look at your drawings mom, one time won't hurt!"

"You don't know how much it could…" I muttered under my breath, looking down.

"Hm?" she asked, not having heard what I just said clearly.

"Nothing." I answered, smiling. Giving up, I sat beside her and grabbed a plastic bag filled with old birthday cards.

"Mom you are such a hoarder oh my God! What is all this stuff?" she gasped, laughing at me.

"This is not hoarding, it's memories, okay!" I answered in a defensive tone and she shot me a 'cut the crap' look. We both fell in a fit of laughter and once we both caught our breaths, I agreed with her.

"You're so right. I'm a hoarder. A bad case." We both giggled and started rummaging through the pile of things scattered across my bedroom floor. At around six, I called to place in our order of Chinese take-out. It was exceptional when we ate some, but our girls' night seemed like a good reason to do so.

I came back in the room and watched from the door frame as she concentrated over a small piece of paper.

"What y'a looking at?" I asked curiously, peering at the paper she held. She removed it from my view before I could catch a glimpse and Ì frowned.

"It was just a quote." She said hurriedly, putting her interest in something else.

"What is it?" I asked, curious as to why she was being so dismissive.

"Life is not measured by the number breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away." She recited, her eyes distant.

"Oh I love that quote." I answered. She selected a quite big piece of paper out of the pile that rested beside her and showed it to me. My face displayed no emotions, even though a million were running in my body.

"Who is this, mom? It's strikingly beautiful." She breathed, admiring the drawing.

The drawing showed a man with dark hair and contrasting lightly coloured eyes. The man was sitting in front of an old wooden desk, deep in concentration, writing. A typewriter and bookshelves rested by him and he was surrounded in stacks of papers. His hair was messed up and his tie was loosened, like any man tended to do after a rough day of work. The first to button of his dress shirt were undone. The drawing stopped mid-calf.

"It's just a random person sweetie, nobody important." I answered not meeting her gaze.

"You never put that much effort into a drawing but in this one, there's so many details, I mean…" she trailed off, her eyes once again ravishing the piece of art.

"I don't know, maybe I felt more concentrated that day." I said, closing the subject. I was about to speak again when the phone rang.

I stood up and went to answer.

"Montgomery residence," I spoke on a calm tone.

"Hello Aria? This is Bryan."

"Oh hey Bryan, is everything okay?" I asked, confused. I never received a call from my colleagues, even less on a Friday night.

"No actually, this is why I was calling you. We have a very big story that hasn't been covered yet and nobody is available to write it. We have to put it in tomorrow's paper and you're the last on our call list. Could you come in and write it?" He begged through the phone.

"Really Bryan, on my only day of vacation in so many years? I had something previously planned with my daughter." I hissed, annoyed by his request. I never abused from sick days off or vacations, and the only time I dared to take a week off, they had to call me in.

"Like I said, you're the last one on the list and we really can't manage this. We'd pay you double, please, I'm begging you: Can you come in and do this?" He asked, seemingly desperate.

"And exactly who would give me that money?" I laughed, knowing well that he wasn't in charge of that department.

"I'd pay you off my salary I don't care at this point please you're my last chance Aria!" he pleaded.

"I can't accept that Bryan you're ridiculous." I snorted.

"Please.." He trailed off, left with no more argument.

"Fine, whatever. But that article better win me some Pulitzers or I WILL make you pay me double time off of your salary." I threatened jokingly, giving in.

"You're an angel, thank you!" he replied fervently, almost praising me.

I hung up and made my way to Rosalie, explaining her the situation.

LB

Rosalie's POV

I sat in the living room in my pajamas watching a movie on TV. My mom had left about an hour ago to go help in at work and I couldn't keep her from doing so. Instead, I just nodded and told everything would be fine. I told her I'd be able to handle myself so she left me some money for the food and left. I felt a bit betrayed but told myself to get over it, since I understood her motives. To pass the time I was spending sitting down, I began to walk over to the mess mom had pulled out. Maybe I would find something she didn't. As I rummaged through the high papers and boxes, An antique looking box caught my eye. I opened it curiously and peeked inside. It was labeled Aria and Ezra. The second name opened up a new spot in my heart with made my mouth take a form of a smile, with dimples on each side. I shuffled through items with one hand and began to finish my orange with the other. I gently put my hand to the bottom carefully and pulled out something that looked like a concert ticket. The foreign words 'Basia' were printed on and I traced the outline of the paper with my finger lightly. Pictures flooded the box and I picked one out. It stunned me. The photo took my breath away. Beside my mother on a couch was a tall man with brunette hair and eyes, looking into Aria's eyes lovingly. They were forehead to forehead and she looked about 16. He looked so much older…As I pulled out numerous more things from the box, new questions sprung into my head. The curiosity was burning into me. 'Where did they meet?' , 'How did they meet?' , 'why did they break-up?'. I made myself dizzy thinking and trying to answer these questions on my own. Almost as if I were treading water, just trying to keep myself content and not sucked into a whirlpool of even more confusion I was carried away in. I closed the box in frustration and exhaled. With my eyes still frozen stuck together, I tried opening it again. Then again. Another time. The box wouldn't reopen. I threw it on the floor and stood up. A tear streamed down my face and I ran up the stairs frantically. I took the last bite out of my orange and tossed it into the closest trash bin. Shortly after I sat down and collected my thoughts partially, somebody knocked on the door. Weird, I thought. I wasn't expecting anybody. Unless…

And my mind started racing. I peeked through the living room window to see a stranger sedan parked outside. If that was it, that was the moment I finally met my father, I was totally underdressed, I finally thought. The pictures I had seen flashed in my memory and made me incapable to do anything. My stomach twisted in knots and the stupidity of my previous thought struck me. I walked hesitantly to the door just as the unknown person knocked a second time. My palms were moist, so I brushed them off on my pajama bottoms before turning the door knob. I exhaled and flung the door open without hesitation.

A gasp escaped my lips and I took a step back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey Guys, sorry for the really delayed update, its short so we don't really have an excuse. Me and Florence go sidetracked I guess. The next chapter will be updated a lot sooner since now we know exactly where the stories going and what's going to happen to the characters. We're excited to continue the journey with you guys and please please please review, favorite or write to us on twitter caffeinatedhale and florenceb26**

EZRA POV

What seemed like months away, to my surprise, in reality was only a few days away. I woke up with only one pounding, mind-wrecking thing on my mind. Rosalie. After her phone call days ago, my life didn't feel the same. Of course there was that missing piece for 13 years, which I knew was Aria, but now everything was different. It wasn't just about her. It was also our daughter. I rummaged through my dresser and pulled out a shirt and pair of pants, both fitted perfectly. I threw the outfit on quickly after my shower. The cold water fell down me comfortably and it woke me up quickly. Rosewood here I come. 13 years later. I'm finally ready.

ROSE POV

"Rosalie" my mother paused looking at me skeptically

"why are you wearing a dress from Christmas?"

I looked down at my body and the silk red dress that fit around my curves tightly. The fabric ended about an inch down my knees. I shrugged acting casual, rolling my eyes half way.

"I don't know" I responded blankly. "I like Christmas… it's festive." I knew she was going to question my outfit choice. I should have worn something less extravagant. Mom nodded suspiciously trying to understand the red material over my torso leading down my body. As she raised her head to the clock

"Its almost 3"!

I was also shocked at the time. I thought Ezra was coming at 2pm.

"So"? I retorted

"So, I have a date at 3:30". My mouth fell wide open.

"It's someone that spencer suggested. I was going to be fashionably late obviously, but I wanted to be ready by 3 either way." Aria already had her hair up with a few strands drooping down her temples. Also, she seemed to be well-put together; just a little cleaning up to do. she giggled and headed up the stairs.

No. This wasn't the time. This wasn't the day. Classical music drifted throughout the house as my mother danced delicately to the tune. The bright beige colored walls made my dizzy and seemed to enclose on me. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. The short breath I let out reminded me to speak; but the words seemed to be sinking in an unknown place, drowning so I couldn't reach them at all. My mouth was glued together and I sat down keeping myself from physically collapsing in the deep, dark hole that my words stayed in.

Within 15 minutes, my mom was out of her room, wearing a stripped black shear dress leading down to her ankles. Ending at her mid-thighs was a short red under layer to keep the shear from looking too provocative. the top of grown looked like the top of a heart starting at her high-chest. It looked flawless falling town her petite body, outlining every unique part of her torso. My mother also made her beauty look so effortless. It was unfair. She was beautiful with consistent brown hair passing her shoulders by about 5 inches. My hair went a little bit past my chin, but was a dark brown. I hade a oblong jawline and my mother was more rounded. I hated how my hair fell. I hated the shape of my face and I hated not knowing where it came from. She twirled with her hands out to her sides modeling her gown to me. I smiled a fake smile and gave her a hug, relaxing my muscles. If she didn't see Ezra when he came, she would just have to see him later. It would all work out. I know it will. My hands found her stripped black and white handbag with pink flowers spread across. It matched one of the dresses upstairs in her enormous walk-in closet. God, I thought, she still dresses as if she were seventeen.

"I left some food in a few containers in the fridge if you get hungry. Don't answer the door if anyone comes, and no boys in the house. Call me if you need anything! I should be back-"

I stopped her mid-sentence

"Mom. I can take care of myself. I'm not five years old anymore. Let me know when you're on you're way back."

She tilted her head and looked at me in awe. Her hand lead up to the bottom of my ear and she pulled me into her. I felt her body merely shake as if she were crying. Maybe she was.

"How did you grow up so fast?" she whispered. Aria whimpered into my shoulder quietly.

"and how is he not here to watch it" she said even quieter. I felt a small tear fall onto my shoulder and it soaked into my silk Christmas dress.

"Bye Rose" she said pulling away and opening the door

"Bye Mom" I responded holding back tears.

And then, she was gone.

2 hours later it was 5:15 and the sun was starting to go down and the birds started to calm. Rosewood felt peaceful as I looked out the window with an outlining of fog. Small puddles of water and dew surrounded the house. In the cool October night, it felt as if it were already seven o'clock. But either way, Ezra was supposed to be here about 3 hours ago. Ha! So much for 'man of my words.' I was questioning myself whether to change and put on sweatpants. Maybe invite a friend over… but there was something in my mind telling me to stay in my chair and continue reading Winesburg , Ohio. My mother always spoke fondly of the book, so I decided to pick up a copy on my way back from the local coffee shop. I kept reading for another 10 minutes. Then next thing you know it was a quarter to six. When finally I heard a knock on the door. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. I could feel my fingertips shaking and my blood flow faster throughout my body. I stumbled for the door from my kitchen, my hands flattening out my dress. I flipped my hair to the side and let out a breath. With that, I opened the door.

"Hi" I gasped as the door swung open. Ezra looked so familiar, though I know I had never met him before. I noticed some of his physical features and matched them with my own. I didn't realize I was crying until he swept me off my feet and lifted me in a hug. That's when I felt my wet face rub against his sweater. He seemed to be closing his eyes. When he dropped me down I heard him quietly whisper 'Rosalie, Rosalie, Rosalie' continuously holding me against him. His face was also glossy from tears wet on his cheeks and around his eyes.

"I would know you anywhere" and he looked into my eyes.


End file.
